


Duplicity

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Cloaked Sex, Infidelity, M/M, Masturbation, Public Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cheating lover is enough to leave BLU team’s Sniper angry, hurt, and morose.  But when he spies his adulterous BLU Spy taking his pleasure of the bushman’s exact double on the RED team, mid combat, he realizes the exact situation that he and his counterpart are caught in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duplicity

Klaxons blared, shutter doors slid open, and the BLU team rushed out of the respawn room, charging into battle with a flurry of jubilant, threatening cries, a stampede of footsteps leaving the team's Sniper behind as he carefully triple-checked his rifle.

Normally, he wouldn't waste the time, eager to reach a defensible position in the battlements and clear out his doppelganger on the opposing team, ensuring his dominance over the upper levels of 2fort. To waste time is to be shot before ever reaching a place to nest up. Normally, he would care.

As the team rushed out, however, amongst them was Spy, clad in his fine blue suit, an eager grin on his face. Sniper scowled at the rogue's back as he charged out first, cloaking after a few footfalls. He knew exactly where Spy was going, just as he had gone before.

It didn't matter how many nights they'd spent in each other's arms. It didn't matter how many times 'I love you' was shared between them, how many kisses, how many sweet touches and sessions of lovemaking, tender or rough. Though the nights belonged to him, Sniper knew who ruled Spy's days.

Humming quietly, the Australian hefted his beloved rifle up onto his shoulder and adjusted his sunglasses, strolling out of the respawn room and out to the corner of the second floor, the sounds of gunfire and explosions a comforting soundtrack to his daily routine.

Stealing a glance out past the small wall that protected the corner of the walkway to the battlement, Sniper caught sight of his double being slammed against the wall of the opposing team's balcony, bracing himself against the wood to keep his face safe from the impact. Eyebrows furrowing at the sight, the BLU clicked his tongue, watching the air wobble behind the RED.

Spy was there, no mistaking it.

Seeing the two so occupied, Sniper trotted across the open walkway, jogging into the battlement to kneel at a window and set up, settling his rifle's butt against his shoulder and looking down the scope. His attention returned to the opposing balcony when he noticed his doppelganger's body hadn't moved. Instead, he was pressed even closer against that wall. His mouth went dry at the sight of the man's pants hitched down around his thighs, legs spread, and the expression on his face--it was one of mixed bliss and shame, a dirty, lustful grimace that made Sniper recoil from his scope, eyes wide, jaw set. Spy had certainly wasted no time in turning his double into a whimpering mess against the rough wood of the RED battlement.

"Two-faced snake," he growled, eyes flicking up at the sign of movement. Hefting the rifle up, he looked back down the scope, watching as the RED moved to the middle of the battlement, in plain view, and braced his hands on the windowsill, bending over at the waist. His ass was in the air, cock hanging stiffly below him, his hand slipping from the cracked wood of the balcony to wrap tightly around and slide along his length. His face was screwed up, eyes squeezed tightly closed as his jaw dropped open. He began to rock back and forth, shuddering, alternately clenching his teeth and letting his mouth hang slack. Sniper couldn't hear it, but it was clear his double was groaning in ecstasy. The BLU's own jaw tightened, teeth grinding. Watching a man who looked exactly like himself, bent over, shuddering like that, it brought a heat to his own groin for reasons he didn't quite understand, but was sure were rooted in narcissism. He snarled, trying to remind himself of the source of the display.

What did he think he was doing up there? In the middle of combat? In the battlement in plain view, no less? There was no mistaking that he'd see it. That he'd know exactly what was going on. His eye straying to his double's backside, Sniper's ire rose further at a blue flicker in the air. Again, the flicker shone, again and again, rhythmic and repetitive. It was Spy. BLU's Spy, his Spy, standing behind RED's Sniper, hands on his hips, pounding into him. With each impact, each slap of hips to ass, his cloak shimmered, outlining him against the shadows of the battlement.

Sniper could barely make out details, but the man's posture said it all. He was hunched forward, eager, hungry as he took the RED, hands straying to pet at his sides and back lovingly. This was not some isolated incident. This was a repeat performance.

Each lurch of the RED Sniper's body brought a fizzle of blue behind him, hints of motion, of shape, telling a story to the observant Australian's eyes of short trysts and semi-concealed rendezvous, discretion boiling away in the face of desire and despair, culminating in the awkward but workable solution he was now witnessing. He wondered how many nights Spy would slip away to the other bushman's camper van, stopping every few yards to let his watch recharge on his long trek, dodging cameras and sensors just to slip in unobserved. How many nights had they laid together clinging tight to warm bodies in the dark, growling and groaning as the van rocked slowly with the force of their hungry rutting?

Sniper felt bile rise in his gut as he watched his counterpart buckling under Spy's assault, shoulders shaking and threatening to give out, his head bowed. His hat slipped from sweat-slick hair, fluttering through the air for a foot or so before catching a breeze, being swept down into the drainage pond at the middle of the field. He felt pressure rise in his crotch, straining against the fabric of his trousers as he knelt there, watching the shuddering back-and-forth rocking of his double, the brief flashes of the invisible man deep inside of him, taking him, pleasing him, making love to him. It made his insides churn with revulsion, with betrayal, but still he found his hand straying to open his fly. He bit his bottom lip, shifting his position to rest his rifle on the windowsill, propping it so he'd only need one hand to hold the gun as he watched through the scope, his other hand tugging his erect cock free of his trousers and wrapping firmly around its length.

His hand began to pump, slowly at first, the pounding blood in his ears and the ache in his clenched jaw drowning out most of the pleasure he might have garnered. Eye firmly leveled on his double and his cheating lover, Sniper snorted through his nose, taking in the sight of a face that was exactly his contorted in such pleasure, a body that was exactly his impaled and shaking, being fucked by a Spy that was not exactly his. He found his hand speeding, rising to match the pace set by the lovers across the battlefield. Each thrust was a pump of his own hand along his cock, each gasp of his double echoed by one of his own.

The RED Sniper clawed at the windowsill, quaking as he bent further forward with only one arm to support him, his chest nearly resting on the sun-bleached wood. He trembled as Spy drove into him, deep, hard, over and over, delighting in the slap of flesh and the soft groans and quiet French curses that accompanied the smell of cigarette smoke in the balcony. His hand flew over his cock, tugging hungrily with each slap, each fizzle of Spy's cloak, until, with a strangled groan, he spilled his seed into his hand, peppering the wood below with droplets escaping his fingers.

He nearly sank with the force of his orgasm, his body growing rubbery and pliant with exhaustion and satiety. Spy seized hold of him, gritting his teeth and hammering in with several more thrusts, spurred on by the last ripples of the bushman's pelvic floor in the wake of his climax, and buried himself to the hilt, hissing as he filled him with his own release.

Snarling, the BLU Sniper felt his own finish well within him, watching the shimmer of Spy's cloak as he disengaged from his lover, pulling out of him. He remembered the sensation well, and watching the RED's face, it was just as pleasant to him. He grunted, shaking as he came, milking himself onto the floor of the balcony. The bushman sighed, looking down at the white puddle beside him, at his cock in his hand, and peered back through the scope to see RED's Sniper standing, locked in an embrace with his invisible lover, lips parted, tongue seeking the open air that the BLU knew was really Spy's own mouth.

His rage fizzled, bled out of him and pooled in his legs and feet, where tension still reigned. His chest, once filled with heat and fury, felt empty, achingly so. He watched the adoration, the love, the absolute elation on his perfect copy's face, in the way his body pressed against his ethereal partner, and it tore a sucking wound through his rib cage. It was how he must have looked in the same position, cradled in Spy's arms, wistful as the rogue purred words of praise and confessions of love. The same, stupid, loopy grin, the same vulnerability, the same trust.

Trust.

He didn't deserve it from either of them. Watching his double, watching himself, standing there like a fool while nothing held him, he found the image quite explained things well. Even in the moments he thought himself closest to the mysterious Frenchman, Sniper was well and truly alone. And judging by the look on his doppelganger's face, RED's Sniper had no idea he was being used either.

Sniper calmly reached forward on his gun and flicked his laser sight on. A blue dot shone on the opposing windowsill and trailed upward, dipping into the room. It danced up Spy's pant leg, tracing the lines of his suit, of his lean, handsome body, to tease threateningly at his cheek.

RED Sniper's eyes went wide, he looked across the field to the BLU battlement, as if he hadn't realized where he'd been the whole time. His mouth moved, but no one ever heard the words he planned to speak, as the blue dot zipped over to his forehead and a loud _crack_ echoed across the field.

**Author's Note:**

> requested by an anonymous Tumblr user  
> prompt fill for the TF2 Promptfest: Sniper/any member of BLU - view through the rifle scope


End file.
